Stupid Bet
by Kirsten Kern
Summary: Quinn and Santana are shying away from sex, which wouldn't happen even if the world were ending.  With the help of Brittany, Rachel decides to take the matters into their own hands.  Established Faberry, mentioned Brittana.


Title: Stupid Bet (1/1)

Rating: T

Author: Swordguard/Kirsten Kern

Words: 3,882

Summary: Quinn and Santana are shying away from sex, which wouldn't happen even if the world was ending. Rachel doesn't know exactly what's going on, but with the help of Brittany, they decide to take the matters into their own hands. Established Faberry, mentions of Brittana.

Author's Note: Yay, old fluff! xD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, besides this fic.

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><p>It had been a long couple of days. Rachel huffed as she eyed the blonde cheerleader sitting beside her, contemplating the taller girl's recent behavior.<p>

It had been three days since she had touched her: sexually, comforting, or just to touch her. It's not like they had their hands on each other at all times, but the blonde was very tactile when it came to expressing herself; it was easier to show the brunette how she felt via touching than talking. Instead of saying how much the brunette meant to the taller blonde she showed her through loving caresses, instead of talking through a problem the blonde would look at her apologetically before pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The brunette understood that the cheerleader had a hard time talking it out, she really did. Of course, that didn't stop her from wanting the blonde to actually use her words, but the cheerleader would always go back to the motto of "actions speak louder than words."

Rachel looked away from the taller girl before staring at her hands. She could remember the last time Quinn's hands were on her, mapping out her body, making her writhe uncontrollably, and just the thought of how the blonde made her feel caused the girl to worry her lower lip between her teeth and cross her legs to relieve the dull ache. The last time she kissed Quinn, the blonde reciprocated until the singer started getting handsy, which led to some ridiculous excuse on the cheerleader's part before running out, leaving a very frustrated diva.

Despite the renewed annoyance from the thought, the brunette also felt her heart speeding up slightly. She tried to take deep breaths, but when she looked back over at Quinn, her heartbeat increased dramatically. The blonde's face was slightly flushed, her breath coming out in huffs, teeth occasionally running over her lips, and fire in her eyes. Her breath caught when her blonde looked over at her, a blank look on her face before donning a confused smile.

"What?" Quinn asked softly, eyes catching hers briefly before drifting away again.

"N-nothing."

Quinn looked back at the girl with a raised eyebrow before turning back, catching her top lip in her teeth momentarily before huffing and narrowing her eyes in concentration.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, sitting back on the couch and throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Language, Quinn," the brunette chided, rolling her eyes as a loud "GAME OVER" came from the television in front of them. Quinn flung the controller in her hand to the end of the couch and huffed out again, clearly disappointed for dying in the game.

Despite the cheerleader's coarse language and the initial surprise that the girl played, there was something about watching the blonde play video games that set the brunette off. In a good way, of course. Was it the way she got so into it, or the way her hands worked the controller, or the unmasked emotions that appeared on her face after she did something right or wrong? No matter what it was, Rachel enjoyed watching the blonde. Even though she wished the girl's attention was focused on her instead of the game.

The blonde rubbed her face with her hands quickly before picking up the controller once again, starting from the beginning of the stage. Rachel rolled her eyes once more as she turned her gaze from Quinn to the television. Surely the game wasn't more fun to play with than playing with her, right?

Her eyes widened and she frowned.

Oh, God. She was having flashbacks about her past relationships with Finn and Noah. This was all they ever did and those relationships didn't last. Sweet Barbra! She and Quinn weren't going to last because video games were more important than she was! She couldn't let this happen!

Rachel's eyes darted between Quinn and the television multiple times before breathing deeply and moving to crawl on her hands and knees towards the blonde.

"Quinn," the brunette drew out her name innocently, placing her hand on the cheerleader's cheek opposite to her and applying just enough pressure to slightly turn her head towards her.

"Yes, Rach?" the blonde muttered distractedly, allowing the shorter girl to turn her head, but keeping her eyes on the game. The brunette grabbed her chin with her free hand and reached for the remote with the other, blindly searching for the pause button.

"Play with _me_, Quinn," she purred into the blonde's ear, delighting in the shudder from her girlfriend before leaving a trail of kisses from her ear to her lips, gently capturing the taller girl's top lip between hers. She smirked against the blonde's lips when Quinn put the controller down and wrapped her arms around Rachel's back, pulling her on top of her lap.

_Yes, I outrank the game!_

Rachel brought her hands to Quinn's cheeks, one hand slipping behind her neck to pull her closer. The blonde responded by gripping around the small waist tighter, the brunette's body pressing deliciously close to the cheerleader's.

_I wouldn't count your chicks before they hatch, Rachel._

… _What?_

Brown eyes opened to see hazel eyes staring at her—no, through her. The blonde's brow furrowed and her lip was caught between her teeth, head resting against the couch. Rachel looked down to see the space between them that wasn't there moments before. When had that happened?

She raised her eyebrow expectantly as she looked back up at the cheerleader. Quinn had never pulled away from a kiss with that nervous pondering look on her face before, well, not since the first night they explored each other's body completely. That was for entirely different reasons though.

What the heck was happening today?

"Quinn?"

The blonde shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts before her eyes focused on Rachel. Quinn looked guilty. Why did she look guilty?

"Why do you look guilty?" Rachel questioned, narrowing her eyes at the girl beneath her as she finally sat down on her lap, knees on opposite sides of Quinn's hips, arms rested against the blonde's shoulders.

She thought it was weird that, first, Quinn hadn't touched her in a couple of days, second, the blonde seemed to be avoiding her, third, whenever she was near, the girl distracted herself with something else, and lastly, she pulled back from a kiss, and, now, now she looked guilty. Did Rachel do something wrong and just not realize it? Did Quinn do something wrong? Had someone said something to Quinn to make her question her relationship with her? What was going on?

"I'm just… not feeling so well right now, Rach," Quinn whispered, holding her eyes before looking away, almost ashamed. "I just don't want to get you sick." Rachel raised her eyebrow again. The first part had her more than skeptical, but if Quinn were sick, she would be looking out for Rachel. She really wanted to question the blonde but decided on another approach.

"Oh, well, if that's the only problem…" Rachel trailed off, moving back towards the taller girl, pressing her lips against her neck and slowly making her way down to her collarbone, tongue peeking out to taste skin occasionally. Her hands gripped at the blonde's sides, thumbs gently stroking her hips.

As a moan escaped the cheerleader's lips and the girl clutched at her shoulders, Rachel smiled victoriously, sliding a hand up the blonde's shirt-clad torso, resting her hand below her breast. With Quinn pressing up into her, the brunette knew that she was as anxious to be touched as Rachel was willing to touch. With that thought in mind, she moved her hand to cup the blonde's breast but was met with nothing but air and a small _oomph _escaping her lips.

She looked up at Quinn who was on the furthest side of the couch away from Rachel's position on the floor. Rachel narrowed her eyes. Quinn pushed her off and onto the floor on her ass. That hadn't happened since the first time they kissed when the Catholic girl wasn't comfortable with whom she was.

"Quinn, why in the name of Barbra Streisand did you do that?" The brunette was livid, her tone collected but with an underlying current of fury waiting to be unleashed. There was no way in hell she was going to let Quinn treat her like that and get away with it.

She stood up, stomping over to the sitting girl and staring down angrily at her girlfriend. Rachel crossed her arms expectantly before raising an eyebrow in a fashion that would've made the cheerleader proud—had she not been terrified of what the shorter girl would do to her.

"I—I'm sorry, Rach. It's just I don't—I just _can't_," Quinn averted her eyes, looking anywhere but the singer.

Rachel let out a groan of frustration before throwing her hands up and turning around to stomp her way towards the door in a perfect diva storm-out. She turned just before she walked out the front door.

"Well, Quinn, you better figure out what the hell is going on before you dare show your face around me." With that, the door slammed loudly causing the cheerleader to jump. She stared at the door, wishing for Rachel to come back, even though it was a stupid, selfish thing to want.

Pulling her phone out, Quinn shot a text to Santana.

_This isn't worth it._

_Oh come on Q. Suck it up... Unless you wanna give up now and let me get my mack on with B._

_Fuck you, Lopez. I'm winning this._

_w/e, fabgay. You'll give in to the dwarf soon enough._

With that, Quinn tossed her phone to the other side of the couch before shifting her gaze to the television. Stupid bet.

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><p>Rachel walked through the halls of McKinley before spotting Brittany by herself at her locker. Surely something hadn't happened to Santana and Brittany. Her brow furrowed in thought before she quickly made her way over to the tall blonde.<p>

"Brittany!" The girl turned at her name, a small smile gracing her face as she saw the tiny brunette.

"Hi, Rachel!"

"I don't mean to bother you so soon before classes start, but where's your other half?" Brittany laughed and the brunette looked at her strangely.

"Both halves of me are here, Rachel! For a brunette, you act pretty blonde sometimes." Rachel fought the urge to correct the blonde and the even stronger urge to slap her own forehead with her palm.

"I meant Santana, Brittany." The clarification caused a smile to fade to a frown and Rachel instantly felt guilty; nothing but happiness should ever show on the tall blonde's face even if that happiness came from admittedly humorous misunderstandings.

"She left my house last night as I tried to get her naked. She really likes when I do this thing with my tongue—"

"For Barbra's sake, Brittany, please don't tell me how Santana likes your tongue."

"But… Doesn't Quinn like your tongue, Rach?"

The brunette choked on air as she flushed with embarrassment, attempting to stutter out a non-incriminating reply.

"W-well, I suppose she—well, she hasn't ever—I don't exactly—I think that—"

"Yes, B, I _love_ her tongue." The husky quality to the already sultry voice belonging to Quinn didn't go unnoticed by Rachel and she flushed impossibly more at the girl's answer, forgetting temporarily that she was supposed to be furious with the blonde.

"See, Rach? She loves your tongue! Just like Sanny loves mine," Brittany continued, smiling before furrowing her brow, "So how come she didn't let me get her naked? I started taking off her shirt and she left because she said something about her mom wanting her to get groceries." Brittany looked down as Rachel eyed Quinn and Quinn cocked her head to look at the other blonde.

"Quinn, sweetheart, would you go get my book from my locker?" Quinn's head perked up at the sickly sweet tone used by her girlfriend and narrowed her eyes before the brunette raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Rach."

The singer waited until the cheerleader was out of earshot before she leaned closer to Brittany. "You know something?" the brunette started only to be interrupted by the dancer saying, "I know things about ducks!" The shorter girl laughed quickly before smiling at the blonde and continued. "Quinn did the same thing last night."

"She had to get groceries for her mom?"

"No, she pushed me on my backside, Brittany!" At Brittany's insinuating smile, the other girl shook her head and quickly added, "Not for what you're thinking." The blonde gasped. "You know what I'm thinking?" she asked incredulously, and Rachel didn't know whether to laugh again or roll her eyes.

"She pushed me off her when I was going to… do things… with her, Brittany." The light bulb went off in Brittany's head and she nodded understandingly.

"Why would San and Q not want sex from us? I mean, we're hot," the dancer pouted, looking over at Quinn who was still at Rachel's locker.

"I think there's something going on between them, Brittany."

"No, they tried that once… it didn't really work out." Rachel stared at the cheerleader, mouth agape. "Ooh, Santana told me not to tell anyone about that." The short girl shook the disturbing image out of her head before looking over her shoulder at her girlfriend. "Don't worry, Rachel. It was a long time ago." She looked back at the tall girl with a skeptical expression, but shook her head again.

"Umm, okay," the brunette paused, glancing over at her cheerleader before turning back to the cheerleader in front of her. "As… interesting… as it is to know that Santana and Quinn had sexual relations, that wasn't what I was referring to." The dancer looked to the ground before looking back up to the brunette with a question on her face. "I think they may have a bet going on. Don't some people wager on how long they can go without intercourse or something?"

"Q and San are competitive," the blonde mused with a shrug as if the statement explained everything. The brunette nodded and looked over her shoulder again to see Quinn finally close the singer's locker with book in hand and prepared to walk back over.

"I think we should try to convince them to drop the bet by provoking them. You know," she lowered her voice, "se_ducing_ them." The blonde dancer grinned widely and patted the brunette's head. "Good idea, Rach. I'm going to go find S and seduce her now!" With that, the cheerleader skipped off, leaving Rachel opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water as Quinn walked up to her side, holding the singer's book under her arm.

"What was that about, Rach?" Quinn asked, grabbing the girl's small hand and intertwining their fingers, subtly pulling her girlfriend to her first class.

"Oh. Nothing, baby," she replied with a small peck to the taller girl's cheek. The blonde smiled down at her quickly before looking back up, missing the pure look of deviousness encompassing Rachel's face.

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><p>"I think they know," Quinn's voice cut through Santana's mind, causing her to look over at the blonde in mild irritation for interrupting her thoughts of her dancer. If she didn't want to listen to whatever the teacher was blabbing on about, why would she want to listen to someone other than her blonde?<p>

"Well, despite the dwarf—"

"Stop calling her that." The Latina rolled her eyes and continued without missing a beat.

"—being completely oblivious most of the time, she does pick up on certain things."

"How would they find out though? I mean, it's not like we have to have sex every day or something," Quinn muttered out, narrowing her eyes at Santana's 'are you serious' look complete with a raised eyebrow. "We don't."

"I thought you got through that whole denial stage already, Fabgay; it doesn't look good on you." The blonde glared at her before rolling her eyes and looking towards the front of the class and continuing.

"_Any_way. I'm pretty sure they know about the bet. They were talking, and when I walked up, Rachel made me get her book from her locker and kept looking over her shoulder." Santana laughed at the image of the whipped cheerleader getting her girlfriend a book (that the diva probably didn't even need) from her locker. Quinn shot another glare at the Latina.

"Stop laughing at me. If Rachel knows about the bet, Brittany is sure to, as well." Santana's laughter died out as she hesitantly nodded, allowing the blonde to continue. "Which means we can either drop the bet or we can continue on and see which one of our girlfriends can seduce us first."

"No way are you getting out of this. The original bet is still in place, though I'm pretty sure you'd be the one to give in first since you have a weird fetish for short, annoying, Jewish divas." The blonde bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from chewing out the Latina, but the way the blonde looked at the other cheerleader made Santana lift her hands up in surrender.

"Suit yourself, S. When you lose, I'll be looking forward to hearing you serenade the cafeteria lady."

"Yeah, okay, 'cause I can't keep it in my pants, Fabray." The blonde looked at the brunette pointedly. "Longer than you," she amended, causing Quinn to laugh.

"Whatever, Lopez."

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><p>As the brunette made her way through the front door to her house, she grinned to herself. It had been harder than usual to convince her girlfriend to come over which further convinced her that Quinn and Santana must be trying to abstain for the sake of competition. Why else would they try to resist herself and Brittany respectively? Both of the cheerleaders were clearly whipped when it came to their girlfriends, even if they denied it to the edge of the universe and back.<p>

Anyway, the brunette shook her head to regain her focus; Quinn was coming over after practice and she need to get her plan ready.

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><p>Quinn stepped up Rachel's driveway, reaching her door and tugging it open as the brunette had told her to in an earlier text. She found it a little suspicious that Rachel had told her to do such, since the singer loved running to the door to fling it open and wrap her arms around the cheerleader's neck in the process. Truth be told, the blonde missed the dramatic welcome.<p>

Stepping inside, she removed her sneakers and Cheerio's jacket. "Hey, Rach." The greeting was met with an empty room and Quinn finally looked up, looking around curiously when she realized her diva wasn't in the room to welcome her at all. "Rach?" The cheerleader called out, padding towards the kitchen, the back door, and then back into the living room. She raised an eyebrow before turning to the stairs.

"Rachel, baby?" Quinn singsonged as her hand ran along the railing of the staircase, eyes raking over the Broadway posters framed on the accompanying wall. She smiled to herself before she realized she, once again, hadn't been answered. She cautiously made her way up the rest of the stairs, trying to get to the top and down the hall quickly but quietly.

Normally, if she became separated from the brunette and she called out her name, the singer would magically pop out of nowhere. This time, she hadn't been in any of the places that the blonde was used to.

As she got to the girl's room, the cheerleader silently twisted the familiar doorknob, pushing the door open a crack before peering into the brunette's light pink room. Despite the soft glow from the bedazzled lamp on the singer's desk, there were no lights on. Upon opening the door further, there was still no sign of the girl.

"Rachel?" The name was whispered into the room before Quinn deemed it safe enough to enter, though she clenched her fists, raising them into fighting position; that was one good thing she learned from Puck, if not the only thing. Slowly stepping into the room, the cheerleader tiptoed around the room, looking for signs of Rachel, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

The blonde turned to the closet and narrowed her eyes. It was a perfect place to hide, and if Rachel were trying to freak her out, she was already succeeding. Jumping out at her would just probably give her a heart attack. That would definitely get back at her for refusing her advances yesterday.

Her hand cautiously reached for the closet and she braced herself for the diva to burst out to scare her, but when she opened the door, there was no brunette in sight. She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. She should've realized that the brunette would never hide in the closet; her gayness was too massive. When she turned back to the door, she drew in a breath sharply as she saw the brunette leaned against the frame.

Her hand flew to her heart and she struggled to catch her breath. "Jesus, Rach. You scared the hell out of me," the blonde chided, wetting her lips quickly. Quinn flopped down on the girl's bed, slinging her arm across her eyes as her breathing regulated. As the brunette didn't say anything, Quinn removed her arm and propped herself up, staring quizzically at the singer.

"Rach? You okay?"

The blonde furrowed her brow in concern before Rachel began to saunter torturously slow towards her. As the shorter girl got closer, the cheerleader could see the look in her eye, the predatory, hungry gaze that Quinn only saw when Rachel wanted one thing. Her breath hitched as she watched the girl, who she just noticed was wearing black lingerie—when had she bought that?—get closer and closer until she was on top of her, literally.

With Rachel straddling her lap, one hand running through her blonde hair as the other cupped her cheek, she felt arousal spike through her entire body, leaving her extremities tingling and her center throbbing.

"I've missed you, Quinn." The words were smoky, deeper than Rachel's normal voice, even huskier than her normal bedroom voice and the tone caused the blonde to forget that the last time the brunette saw her was only a couple hours prior. Slowly, the blonde leaned backwards, pulling the shorter girl over her, curly brown hair tickling her neck and cheeks as her diva leaned down to capture her lips.

The kiss was soft, but needy, borderline desperate. Small hands pulled at the pale neck as pale hands ran over unclothed curves, reveling in the contrast between the silk-soft, warm skin and the lacy lingerie. As Quinn's hands trailed down to palm the brunette's backside, the singer moaning into her mouth, the blonde couldn't care less that she was about to lose the bet with Santana. The feelings Rachel stirred within her were much more rewarding than any humiliation the Latina could ever go through.

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